


The Sun Still Shines

by hydesboy



Category: Silent Hill, Silent Hill (Video Game Series), Silent Hill The Room
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Post-Canon, implied canon typical violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:28:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24424270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydesboy/pseuds/hydesboy
Summary: Neither Henry or Eileen are okay after the ordeal they went through, but they're getting there together. It's a slow process but they have all the time in the worldI also definitely don't own the rights to the franchise, and Silent Hill (1-4: The Room) and all involved characters belong to Team Silent (Konami)
Relationships: Eileen Galvin/Henry Townshend
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	The Sun Still Shines

The exact amount of days it had been was unclear, the first few days - anywhere between half a dozen days and a good month - had gone by in a blur. Recovery took so very much of the pair's time, and that was only tending to the physical wounds, the psychological wounds leaving roots that wound their way far deeper into them than any mere flesh wound ever could.  
The man, a quiet, unassuming chap by the name of Henry Townshend, sported a veritable mosaic of scars decorating his body in a way that any moral person would find hard to look at. Tooth marks, some almost canine and some uncomfortably human, the marks of a blade or similar shaped object, and odd circular shapes adorning his body, avoiding his face by some miracle that he could not say he rightly deserved. But his marks, despite still serving as a reminder of an experience that nobody should experience, were so higgledy piggledy that there could be no pattern formed. The woman, once brimming with a life that was so close to being prematurely snuffed out, sporting the name of Eileen Galvin was decorated by the horribly personal marks of a madman. One of her eyes took on a milky hue, the sight poor but thankfully able to be partially saved, and was accompanied by a scattering of scars. This could have been passed off as the marks of an accident, the carvings of a madman reading 20/21 forever marking her for the foul purpose of an unwilling sacrifice. 

The police had claimed it a copycat killer trying to recreate the Walter Sullivan killings of 1991, and the media lapped up this explanation easily sensationalised, and it was just easier for them to agree. No one would believe them if they told anyone they were attacked by the ghost of a long dead serial killer after all.

On a physical level, they had recovered as well as they could, but this was the only level they could claim to be even partly recovered. Henry had always been a recluse, notoriously going week without being seen, and yet he had taken it upon himself to go out for a walk at least once a day, if just to prove to himself that he could. Eileen, however, had been a bit of a socialite but had begun to lock herself away, not wanting to leave the perceived safety of her room, having been so brutally attacked when she had gone to leave once had gotten it in her head that if she were to leave harm would befall her, and worse still she could not bring herself to face a mirror, hating the broken woman she knew she would see in the glass. 

Seeing her in such a state made Henry's heart ache in a way he could not fully understand, not put into words. Not that he was a man of many words even in the best of times. 

It was a shot in the dark, but, with a little gentle coaxing through a hall in the wall that they now took to sharing as a point of communication, she had agreed to accompany him on a photo-shoot for a travel magazine. He promised to protect her, as he had done before, promised they would be going somewhere no one else would be, and finally promised that the moment she wanted to leave they would.  
He had not expected her to agree, but was pleasantly surprised to find her agree, even if it was slightly hesitant in delivery. 

The very next day they set out.

It was a simple enough trek through the woodlands that marked the outskirts of town. This had made him a tad worried that it might spark up memories better left forgotten, but by some miracle all was well. The pair looked somewhat less mismatched as they once had, the woman in a simple long grey shirt with purple over-shirt, better fit jeans than those worn by her companion, her fringe grown out to cover her face alongside the sunglasses she'd taken to wearing, the man in jeans faded over use, white dress-shirt letting a black undershirt peek out. She had volunteered to carry their lunch as he was busy with his photography. It was a quiet walk, but even if words were not so easily flowing, it was the presence of one another that mattered not the conversation they could have shared, following a path that weaved its way through the trees, the sunlight shining down through the canopy dappling the area in a dazzling dotting of dancing gold, immortalised behind the lens of his camera.  
The world was so much easier to understand when he gazed into the eyepiece, all that existed and needed to be understood reduced to whatsoever he captured in the frame at any given time. 

Before all too long, a happy sounding gurgling of a stream announced that they had reached their intended destination. 

"Oh, Henry, its beautiful!" Eileen, who had wandered ahead as the man was taking his time taking photographs of almost everything that they passed that had caught his eye. 

It was a lovely sight, this was true. A wide river split through a clearing, running down from what one could easily dub a miniature waterfall, the spray setting rainbow flittering through the air like the butterflies that accompanied the bright flowers closer to the edge of the clearing. The very air itself tasted clean and fresh. It was like a world separate to their own, more earthy than the mundane and macabre existences they were forced to lead against their will. 

"I had hoped it would be." the man returned, his tone not quite as flat as it often was, "I had heard that it was lovely here." 

"Well, you could tell whoever told you that they were dead on." There was a small smile playing upon her lips at this, and the one of whom it was directed was almost inclined to photograph it.

More than once Henry had wanted to photograph the woman since they had set out, the gold pouring down upon her from the trees making her resemble a goddess of old art, little smiles that he didn't realise he missed until he saw them surface ever so briefly - longing? - but he never did capture her photograph. He was afraid of offending her, for he had heard her weeping at the late hours of the night when she would have thought there was none to hear, had heard the glass shatter and the resulting discarded frame of what had once been a mirror.  
Henry might not fully understand what the emotions meant, but he knew there was something there. 

Leaving Eileen to her own devices, he set about taking the photographs he was paid to collect. A butterfly launching itself off a flower with the duller undergrowth in the background to bring out the colours, the waterfall decorated with the rainbow spray it produced, kicking his shoes off so he could capture images of all angles from the water, interesting rock and moss formations that he was almost tempted to touch. He really was off in his own little world, comfortable and wonderfully at peace with a world that was far from kind. 

Watching him, Eileen could not help but let out a small, happy giggle. The time had ran by with the speed of a leaf in the stream they were enjoying, but she hadn't thought to interrupt him. Watching him at work behind his camera he seemed somehow different, not that she could really put a finger on why this was. She hadn't thought to interrupt him, wanting about to appreciate the area, then later set up a like nook where they could enjoy the picnic they had brought, but rather than reading as she had intended, she had found herself near mesmerised in her watching of the strange, awkward young man.  
He turned to her, having heard her. For a moment he was worried that something might have been wrong, but seeing the steady smile upon her face that for so long been lost, he could not help but smile himself. 

"You're going to exhaust yourself!" she called out to Henry, catching his eye for a moment before he glanced awkwardly downwards, "Come eat and show me what you've taken so far!"

If he had wanted to insist that he could keep going, he kept it to himself as he went to join her on the repurposed blanket they had brought. He sat at the far end away from her, his demeanour as if he thought she might crumble away to nothingness if he got too close.  
He exchanged the camera, and a brief demonstration of how to flick through the images, for one of the sandwiches they had brought and a cup of lukewarm tea. He did not pay all that much attention to what he was eating, paying far more attention to watching her, an odd burst of pride following the occasional delighted sound following her seeing something that she particularly liked. 

"You should take my photo one day," she proposed, but as soon as she had said it, the enthusiasm in her face was snuffed out like a candle in the wind, "But you only take photos of beautiful things, right? So you wouldn't want to photograph something as horrible as I am." With this said, she thrust the camera back towards the man, her lip trembling, looking away suddenly ashamed that he had to see her look as she did. 

With the camera in his hands, he felt words dry up in his throat as his heart ached something fierce. He shook his head, swallowed thrice and took a deep breath before he even dared try to speak.  
"If I do only photograph beautiful things, then, Eileen, it would be an honour to take your photo. You would be the most beautiful subject I have ever captured in a photograph." Although the words were not coming easily, not that they ever did, he sounded so wonderfully earnest that she could not help but look back to him.  
"Would you do me the honour of letting me take your photo here? There is no one around to see, and the product will be for just the two of us to see." 

The silence grew long, and Henry had just began to worry that he had overstepped a boundary or two but, as she finished up her tea, giving herself time to think, she eventually replied with a soft,  
"Just for us?" she looked up, her eyes having trailed the travel cup, watching him nod, "Promise?" 

"I promise."

A ghost of a smile played across her lips, sincere even if it was faint. She placed her cup down, and rose up to her feet with a smoothness that Henry had lacked ever since their ordeal.  
"Well then, Mr. Photographer," she began, putting on a brave face, "Where do you want me?" 

From behind the eye of the camera, Henry could not see a woman who had teetered at death's door, had been preyed upon and broken, a woman changed by pain and torment that could drive a weaker person to madness. What he saw was a woman speckled with bouncing water that seemed to match her freckles, reflected rainbows bringing with it a mystical, ethereal quality to the figure. 

"I feel silly up here!" she stated from where she was perched up high on a rock, stable despite the moss and water that set it glittering in the right light. 

"Do you want to get down?"

'No!" she laughed, and as she laughed her moment of happiness was caught, a gleaming moment of happiness amidst a cruel world that failed to kill all the joy that dared to make itself know. 

By the time they ended up heading back to their apartments, Henry had ended up taking a good dozen photographs of Eileen, and while not all would see the light of day, not wanting to dampen the improved mood she was in by a reminder of her injuries, those that did were happy, a radiant soul that had not been beaten by the past, even if they changed her. 

He kept his promise of course, and the photographs being something they could share between just the two of them made it feel all the more special to him, and to her in turn.


End file.
